Ashes in Paradise
by shalom378
Summary: "I'm twenty-one now, and still have nightmares every night. They're always of Gale- getting crushed by falling masonry, shot in the heart by an arrow, dying a gruesome death by a Capitol-made monster. But when I wake up screaming, tangled in the sheets, he's always there." One-shot of Gale's life after Mockingjay. Please read Review!


**Hey-o all! So I felt very unsatisfied after The Mockingjay- what the heck happens to Gale? So here's a one-shot I wrote from his sweetheart's POV. Hope you like- REVIEW ****_REVIEW_**** rEvIeW! Rated T for a birth scene and swear word, just in case ;) **

To this day I'm still shocked at how blessed I am with Gale. All throughout my school years I had a major crush on him- who didn't? But there was something about him that I was so deeply attracted to, beyond his dashing looks and sultry voice. He cares so deeply for the ones he loves, as anyone could see. I saw it in the way he brought fresh game home for his family every day, the way his clothes were rumpled and eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep and excess tears the days Katniss was in the Games. I've never envied Katniss, but I sure as heck envied their relationship, and I craved his affection- alongside every other girl in school. So why me? Out of all the flocks of adoring girls at school, why did Gale choose me? I'm only average-looking. Long black hair with fringed bangs, sea-green eyes, and freckle spatterings across the bridge of my nose. There were plenty of other young ladies to choose from, much prettier than I. The only logical explanation to his hand-choosing me is our previous relationship.

When Katniss was away, I could see how despondent he was- the hurt in his face, the slouch in his posture. So I baked him cookies when I could afford to and left them on his doorstep. Times were hard and food was scarce, so I hoped the small gesture would help him and his family along. One morning as I was walking away from his modest excuse for a house, the door was flung open with a _bang_. Something instinctual made me bolt even though I had done nothing wrong, and I heard my pursuer's footsteps falling farther behind. I was the fastest track runner in my class, and the person didn't have a chance at catching me until a voice called out,

"Eve! Wait!"

I knew before I stopped it was Gale- there was no mistaking that voice. _He knows my name_? He nearly slammed into me (I probably wouldn't have minded) when I pulled up sharply. Gale skittered back a few steps and ran a hand through his dark hair.

"Listen Eve, I just wanted to thank you. You're kind of a celebrity in our family- especially with Rory. He thinks your cookies are the greatest_." _

_Oh, that smile, that beautiful, heart-breaking smile full of perfect teeth and perfect lips…_ I blushed, humbled by the thought of his younger brother eating my cookies.

"Um, I'm glad he likes them," I replied, giving him a small smile. "It's the least I can do, with Katniss and all."

I didn't need to explain anymore beyond that. Gale let out a barely audible sigh and I felt the sudden need to console him. I placed my hand on his forearm and said gently, "She won't forget you." His blue eyes widened with shock and something flickered across them- longing? But I didn't have time to assess it because I turned and walked away, leaving him in my dust, wanting more.

When Katniss came back and settled down with Peeta years later, it wasn't a big surprise. Gale spent more time than ever in the forest, and I was forced to stay at home, looking after my ninety year-old gran, the only family I had left. My Pa died in the same mining accident as Katniss' father, and my mother died in childbirth. Gran had amnesia and thought she lived in the Capitol, even though it was long-since defeated. One evening, when I came home from trading at the Hob for grain, I found Gran lying on the kitchen floor, her lifeless eyes staring emptily at the ceiling. The coroner said it was a heart attack. The days that followed were slow and painful. I stayed inside, eating little and crying a lot. The one thing I remember is nearly every day without fail, fresh squirrel meat was left at my doorstep.

It's been four years since the Capitol was demolished. I'm twenty-one now, and still have nightmares every night. They're always of Gale- getting crushed by falling masonry, shot in the heart by an arrow, dying a gruesome death by a Capitol-made monster. But when I wake up screaming, tangled in the sheets, he's always there.

"Eve. Eve!"

I gasp and fling my eyes open, a tear streaming down my cheek. "Shhh…" he whispers as I sit up and sob into his shirt, clinging to him as he holds me, breathing in the comforting woodsy scent he always carries.

"Oh, Gale, it was so awful," I whisper into his soft grey shirt. "We had a baby and President Snow-"

My voice cracks and I can't finish. Gale strokes my disheveled pillow-hair and I nestle into his comforting arms, my breathing and heart slowing to a normal speed. "I don't ever want kids," I murmur as my eyes fight to stay open. Gale tilts cups my face with his hand so I'm looking into his stunning eyes. He looks confused, and he asks, "You… don't?"

I pull back. This isn't a topic we'd ever faced head-on, only skirted around the edges of. "Of c- course not!" I stutter, trying to sort out my thoughts. "My mother _died _giving birth to me, and I could never raise a child!" Gale's hands drop from my shoulders and into his lap, his right fingers twisting the silver band on his ring finger. "I thought that changed- when you married me," he says softly, his voice still husky with sleep. "It did, it did…" I grab his hand. "I'll think about it, okay?" He squeezes my hand, then turns on his side and drifts off into a fitful sleep. I lay awake, my fingers whispering over his face, tracing his lips and stroking his brow.

"You're so good to me," I sigh before falling asleep.

The next morning Gale leaves early for the woods to check his traps and give fresh food to his family, who live only a short walk away. He's taken me to the woods a few times, but apparently I scare away the game with my noisy gait. I've just set lunch for two on the table- Gale should be home any minute- when I get an overwhelming sense of nausea. I barely have time to run to the toilet before vomiting up my breakfast. The front door slams, and soon someone pulls my hair from my forehead and rubs my back with a warm hand as I gag on the acidic meal. "Sorry," I say to Gale who has joined me on the bathroom floor, trying to regain my breath. "I don't know what came over me."

He looks at me with concern clouding his features. "Let me take you to Hazelle."

His mother, Hazelle, is an accomplished doctor and has helped Gale and I through many fevers and sprained limbs.

"No, it's probably just a bug. I'll be fine in a few days."

Four weeks later and I'm throwing up every other morning. I know I'm kidding myself with the flu theory; Gale doesn't know how bad it is because I'm an expert at covering my tracks- I don't want him to worry. But after a full month of this I escape to see Hazelle while Gale is out hunting. I knock as I enter the small house and call out "Hazelle?" She comes around the corner toting five year-old Posy. My mother-in-law's face lights up in a smile when she sees me.

"Eve! How good to see you! I was just putting on a cup of tea."

We chat over chamomile tea as Posy plays with paper dolls underneath the table. After about ten minutes, Hazelle sets down her teacup and asks,

"So, what did you come for? I have a mind you needed more than a cup of tea."

I smile sheepishly and tell her of my symptoms. "Just about the only things I can stomach are toast and tea," I finish. Hazelle sits in silence and absently twirls a lock of her graying hair between her fingers. Then, she gets up without a word and rummages through the nearby medicine cabinet and passes me a plastic stick. After receiving my odd instructions I disappear into the bathroom and come out again, holding up the stick for Hazelle's inspection. A pink plus sign is visible on the tiny monitor.

"What does it mean?" I ask her nervously, chewing on a strand of my long hair while she frowns at the stick. Hazel sighs and sets it on the counter.

"It means you're pregnant, sweetheart."

Numb, I slide into the kitchen chair, and Posy sits against my legs, naïvely playing with her toys. _Pregnant. _The one thing I feared most in the world. Before I have time to ask any questions Gale sweeps through the front door at the same time Hazelle sweeps the pregnancy stick into the garbage, hiding the evidence. "Caught a rabbit in the trap today!" Gale says, setting a skinned hare carcass on the counter, then kissing his mom on the cheek. "Morning to you, Mrs. Hawthorne," he says, giving me a quick kiss. "And who's this young lady under here?" he booms, ducking down and grabbing Posy amid her delighted squeals, and tosses her up in the air. _He'll make such a great dad_, I think, as the child snuggles into his shoulder, sucking her thumb.

"Wanna know a secwet?" she asks in her adorable childish lisp. "Yes," Gale says seriously, waiting to hear what's on the menu for lunch.

"Auntie Eve gots a baby in her tummy," Posy states proudly.

Everyone freezes, Hazelle's hand pressed against her mouth and my hand unconsciously resting on my stomach. Gale carefully sets Posy down and crosses over to me. He doesn't need to confirm the information, my downcast eyes give me away.

"How far along are you?" He asks softly.

I look to Hazelle for help, and she fumbles for words. "A- bout th- three months…"

I squeeze my eyes shut, standing before Gale, and wait for him to say something. But he doesn't. Instead, he cups my face with both his hands and kisses me- sweetly, softly. I melt into his embrace and Posy giggles.

"Mama, they're kissin'!"

The whole party breaks into laughter. Gale puts his arm around my shoulders, Posy returns to her dolls, and Hazelle escapes to the kitchen, radiating joy. "Rabbit pie for lunch!"

I only wish I could be as happy as everyone else.

_Four Months Later_

The time ticks slowly. Gale leaves early for hunting, comes home for a short lunch, and then leaves to barter at the Hob for baby items until dinner. I beg him to take me, but he insists I stay at home. He won't admit it, but I know he's scared of something happening to the baby or me. So I'm stuck at home, cleaning meticulously and rubbing Hazelle's balm on my swollen ankles and lower back. I'm just topping seven months, but already my breasts are swelled with milk and my stomach far beyond distended. I have (or, rather, _had_) a slight stick frame of a body, and the baby has consumed my entire front. Liquids spilling and dishes breaking are constant occurrences at the table when I try reaching over my belly. Gale always quietly cleans up each mess I make while I sit in my chair, seething in frustration. "Maybe if you let me out of the house more often I won't destroy everything I touch," I shoot at him. I can't help complaining- my hormones get in the way, too. I can cry at the drop of a hat- literally. The other day Gale came in and tossed his brown hunting hat on the chair, but it skidded onto the ground. I immediately burst into tears, and when he tried to comfort me I sobbed, "I c- can't even go out! I'm t- t- _trapped_!" Gale only rubbed my back as I cried, and softly kissed the top of my head.

Gale walks into the kitchen to find me desperately trying to make cinnamon buns for lunch, but so far all I've accomplished is to make a grand mess. My hair falls in defiant strings around my face while the rest obeys in a messy bun. My face, along with my clothes, is coated in a fine dusting of white flour. I push a bowl full of baking mix into the sink, but it ricochets and falls to the floor. The porcelain bowl breaks into chunks while the kitchen erupts in a poof of flour. "Dammit!" I swear, throwing a dishtowel at the broken bowl.

"I don't think that's- _cough_ – going to help," Gale chuckles, choking on the flour dust. I pout and cross my arms.

"Peeta makes them so much better- can't I just get some from the bakery?" I plead.

Gale leans against the counter and sighs. "Sure. There's some money in the pot above the fireplace."

I'm so used to him saying _no_ all these past times that I'm shocked into staring at him, my mouth slightly open.

"Seriously?"

He nods. "Seriously. But be back in an hou-"

I cut him off by throwing my arms around him- awkwardly, of course- and kissing him full on the lips. When I pull back he's smiling softly, and his face is smudged with flour. I giggle. "I'd better go get cleaned up- love you!" He seems pleased with himself as I bustle about the house, pinning up my hair, changing into a flowy top and dark blue maternity jeans. "You look nice," Gale calls from the kitchen as I step outside. I beam at him and close the door behind me.

Out in the fresh June air I take a deep breath of freedom and walk the quarter mile to the Mellark Bakery. The bell on the door dings cheerfully and Peeta comes out from the kitchen, his limp well covered, wearing a flour-saturated apron. "Eve- hello!" he says, flashing me a winner smile. "Hi, Peeta," I say. "Can I get two cinnamon buns? I tried to make some this morning but it ended badly." He cheerfully packages my order and comments,

"Congratulations, by the way. On your baby."

"Thank you! How are you and Katniss doing? Any kids yet?" I ask, setting a few coins on the counter and taking the wrapped parcel.

Peeta frowns. "No. I've mentioned it a lot, but she's very against the idea. The Capitol… there's still memories."

To busy his hands he methodically wipes the counter with a dishrag in small circles. "She'll come around, Peeta," I say before turning and walking (waddling) out the door, the bell clinking behind me.

For the first time that night, my dreams weren't troubled. It was more of a flashback of our wedding- the day I became Mrs. Hawthorne. I wore a simple cream-white dress that Katniss' mother fashioned for me, and my hair adorned with tiny white forget-me-nots that Posy and Primrose picked by the pond. The audience was small- Gale's family, the Everdeens, and of course Peeta and Katniss. We exchanged vows at the front of City hall, Gale looking very handsome in a collared shirt and black pants. It was a short and sweet ceremony, as was the sealing kiss.

But the waking from the dream was a whole different experience.

Panic.

That's the first thing that comes to mind as I wake up at three AM with searing pain in my middle and lower back. "Gale!" I whisper/scream his name, biting back tears. He turns over, his voice and movements still hazy with sleep. "What's… Eve!" Time loses meaning. Through my pain with bleary eyes I see Gale jump out of bed and rush out the door, grabbing his jacket from the coat rack before leaving. He's gone for what seems like an eternity, but in reality was only a few minutes. After two more agonizing waves of pain Gale bursts in, pulling his mother behind him. Both of their faces are flushed from the cold night air, and Gale's eyes are fogged with fear. Hazelle sets her medical bag on the nightstand, and in less than a minute has diagnosed me with premature labor. _Only seven months… _Gale pulls her aside and talks in a hushed, anxious tone.

"Mom, that's not right. She- she's not due for another two months!"

"I know. But we're just going to have to make do-"

I whimper as another contractions hits and clutch the bedsheets. Gale hurries to my side, whispering soothing things in a quavering voice and cupping my hand in both of his. Meanwhile Hazelle has set up what can only be described as a set of stirrups near my feet and lays a protective sheet over the end. Giving instructions to Gale, she says, "Sit up behind her and pull her onto your lap. The leverage will help."

Gale does so, and as he gently eases me into position a strange gush of water fills the sheets.

"Squeeze when you need to," he whispers, and slips his hands under mine. I'm in between contractions which gives me enough strength to whisper back, "I can't. It hurts too much, Gale."

I can't see his face, but as another contraction slams into me I hear him plead to Hazelle, "Can't you get her something for the pain?" It unnerves me to hear him so frantic.

She replies coolly, "What you need to worry about is being calm. Her labor is too far along for any pain meds, and she's a tough young girl." Deftly she walks to the end of the bed and peels off my undergarment from under my nightgown and slips my feet into the footholds of the stirrups. Then she addresses me, placing a warm, comforting hand on my knee. "Ok, sweetheart, won't be long now."

Suddenly, a horribly intense pressure slices through my core and comes to rest down south. "I have… to push!" I gasp.

"No, not yet," says Hazelle to me and Gale. This time I don't bother biting back tears- I let them flow freely, crying like the scared little girl that I am. Gale continues to rub my back and stroke my hair back from my sweaty forehead.

"You're doing great, Eve," he murmurs. But by now, my hormones have been kicked into overdrive, and I shove his hand away, my voice cracking.

"No!" I shout, startling both Gale and Hazelle.

"You did this to me," I moan, trying to wriggle from Gale's faithful grasp in my delirium.

Before my pain-crazed self does too much damage he puts a strong arm across my chest and clamps down, forcing my feet back into the stirrups. I sob and unknowingly dig my nails into his hand as yet another contraction forces more pressure.

"Okay, Eve- push!" instructs Hazelle, positioned down by my legs. I bear down with all my might, leaning into Gale's arm.

"The baby's crowning- just a few more, sweetheart," Hazelle reports.

A burning sensation takes over my whole body, and everything hurts… a strangled scream escapes my throat and I squeeze my eyes shut. Gale is saying something, but I can hear him, and oh, the pain… suddenly it's gone. The pain and pressure is instantly alleviated, and I fall back against Gale, shaking in relief, my breath coming in hiccupy sobs.

"You did it, Eve," Gale says, the tension gone from his voice and the relief evident.

Hazelle cradles a small something in her hands- it's wriggling and slimy. "It's a girl," she announces, snipping the cord and wrapping the baby in a fleece blanket. Gale slides out from behind me and gingerly takes the tiny little girl who can't weigh over five pounds. The last thing I see is his face filled with soft joy as he stares down at our daughter before I black out.

_Two days later_

I snort and giggle, trying to contain my laugh so as not to wake the baby. "_Mirka_? What kind of a name is _that_?"

Gale feigns an offended air. "It was my grandmother's name, if you must know."

I sigh. "Let's not name her after anyone. She's just so unique- you know?"

He nods and scans our infamous 'Name List' for more ideas. "What about… Zuri!" he exclaims.

Thinking it over, I trace a groove in the table. "Zuri. Yeah, I like that." Just as he circles it in the notebook Zuri's cry is heard from the nursery. When I peek over the edge of the bassinet she has put her teeny hand in her mouth, effectively quieting herself. "Hi, Zuri," I whisper, stroking her cheek.

"Welcome to District Twelve."

_Four Years Later_

Her hair is so long now, black ringlets like her father, cascading to her waist. Zuri makes a daisy chain and sits in the grass while I plait her hair.

"Here, mama." she passes me the chain and I weave it into her tresses.

"There. Now you can go play."

Zuri scrambles to her feet and runs to the porch, her lavender-colored dress flouncing about her ankles. I sit in the rocking chair beside her and fiddle with a broken clothespin while she plays with the dolls Gale fashioned for her out of wood.

"Papa will be home soon," I tell her, smiling when claps her hands delightedly.

"Can I go meet him at th' gate?" she asks, standing and brushing wood shavings from her lap.

I nod and watch as she runs down the lane, feet pounding over dirt. Gale has just opened the wooden gate, a dead rabbit slung over one shoulder, and he barely has time to drop the rabbit before Zuri launches herself into his arms. In a single fluid motion Gale swings her onto his back and retrieves the rabbit, Zuri chatting happily as the two make their way to the house.

"…and mama made corn for dinner, and I played hopscotch, and-"

"Whoa there, flutterbug!" exclaims Gale, shifting her to the porch. "Tell me all about it in a little while. Why don't you bring this in to the kitchen."

Gale passes the hare carcass to Zuri and I smother a laugh as she makes a disgusted face and disappears into the house, dangling it by its ears.

Gale turns his attention to me. "Hello, Eve." He smiles softly and I return the look. Gale takes my hand and lifts me from the chair, then fixes his lips on mine. We are broken apart when Zuri runs out, squealing, "Papa! It has eyes!" and we laugh.

_This is the world we live in. District Twelve, once a place of sorrow and poverty, is now filled with joy and rich in love and laughter. While the Capitol's ashes still float from the sky and settle on the ground, we are the colorful flowers who rise up from the grey dust. Ashes to ashes, flowers to family- District Twelve is being re-built, bit by bit._

_And teetering on the edge of paradise._


End file.
